Mathieu Frollo: A Judge Without Conclusions
by Madame Zashley
Summary: Mathieu Frollo, son of a self-righteous judge, has always doubted just about every aspect of his destiny. Follow his adventures with a careless cecaelia, a self-proclaimed fool, an evergreen fairy, a hair-hating villainess, a cheerful monster, and an eccentric sorcerer he as struggles with whether doing what's wrong is really what's right. OC-centric.
1. Of Cousins and Contact Lenses

**Rated T just to be safe, potentially for future chapters, and possibly for overpriced contacts.**

* * *

"_God have mercy on her…_"

A shadow was cast upon the teenager's face as he turned away from the fire that blazed ceaselessly in the nearby fireplace. Despite the tension of his muscles, his shoulders slacked as he looked down at his hands. He lifted one to his light brown hair, making the other hand into a weak fist.

Here, he bit the corner of his lip, eyes only halfway open. His gaze seemed to be focused on the rings that decorated his right hand, one red and one blue. Both burned with the same blinding glare that was given off by the flames, which in turn reflected itself against the transparent surface of his glasses.

In the corners of the room, where the light of the raging fire hardly reached, stood a pair of cloaked figures. In a dark, dull tone, they chanted in Latin.

"_Kyrie Eleison…_"

He opened his palm, slowly releasing the fist. He noted the deep, long lines strewn across his palm that he had been told were commonly known as "monster lines" as he let his other hand drop to his side. A light haze of smoke passed by him, ghostly in nature. He took a deep breath before singing the next line.

"_God have mercy on me…_"

His gaze flickered to the corners where the figures, engulfed in shadow, looked back at down him from the hoods that hid their faces. Again, they chorused in a deceptively soft tone.

"_Kyrie Eleison…_"

The teenager sighed, bracing himself before turning to face the dreadful fire that licked in his direction. He straightened his posture, bringing a determined sort of finality to his eyes. They were narrowed, but it was difficult to tell if that was because of the flames.

The blaze now illuminated his face, showing the sharpness his facial features. His distinct cheekbones, pointed nose, and pronounced chin were accentuated in the contrast of the light. Breathing in deeply, he prepared himself for the song's powerful finish.

"_But she will be mine or she...will...BU-_"

Halfway through, the note was interrupted by a sudden, hacking cough.

A switch on the wall was pulled, filling the room with light. One figure groaned in annoyance, removing its hood to reveal blonde hair very loosely tied into a ponytail slung over the female form's shoulder. Her face was just as sharp and bony as that of the teenage boy's, if not more so, and she appeared to be about the same age. "Mathieu, how are we ever going to get through this if you keep botching the last note?" she complained. Her voice was smooth and willowy despite her irritated tone.

"It's allergies, Joséphine," the light brunet murmured to his cousin, dropping his uptight posture. "The smoke from the fire isn't helping."

"Well, it's a part of the song, so you're going to have to deal with it," the blonde replied, crossing her arms. The hooded figure in the other corner came to where she was, removing its own hood in the process. Revealed was a boy that looked very much like the blonde called Joséphine, his hair a deeply golden bob cut.

"I don't know why it's taking you so long to get it right, Mathieu," the blond boy chimed in, a haughty air in his lazy eyes. "It's a beginner's magnum opus. You stand here, move there, pull out the starry piece of cloth that you retrieved from a lovely gypsy girl you're secretly lusting after…there's hardly even any choreography, and you're being dragged down by a _single note_!"

"It's only been what, Benoît, three months since I started vocal practices?" said Mathieu.

"Oh, sure," said Joséphine. "Not like that's really your excuse. Is it?"

"Joséphine only took a week to get it right," Benoît added, standing beside his fraternal twin sister.

"Yes, but she has been refining the piece for years," said another voice. It was a frail, older tone which, along with the crisp sound of boots making their way across the floor, made all three teenagers stop their bickering and turn their heads.

In front of them stood a middle-aged woman whose hair was already gray and wiry, with steel gray eyes to match. Under her own smoke-colored cloak, which was left slightly open at the front, one could see a black dress that made her look like a shadow against the wall where she looked at the three.

"You, on the other hand," she continued, gesturing to Mathieu, "will need much more practice." Her voice had been fading over the years, degrading at a rather quick rate, but her words still held a piercing sort of strength. "Joséphine has been ready for this destiny her whole life, after all."

"So has he, mother," said Benoît.

"No. He has known of his destiny for a good portion of his life, but he has not been preparing for it," the woman corrected. "At least, not properly."

Mathieu sighed almost inaudibly. Ever since the year prior, when his aunt had learned of his existence, she'd insisted on taking him in so that she could train him. He imagined she was still bitter that he hadn't already gotten _any_ sort of training on his villainous legacy, apart from the school courses that he'd hardly passed last year.

"Mother, can I not simply claim the destiny as my own?" Joséphine pleaded. "As you said, I've been preparing to be a competent Judge Frollo, and I don't think Mathieu even _wants_ the destiny."

"Aunt Geneviève, if I may…" Mathieu began, though he silenced himself as the woman held her palm up.

"Joséphine, when it was thought that only I, sister of Claude Frollo, had bore children, you were set for the destiny," said Geneviève. "However, because the last Claude Frollo has a direct descendant, he _must_ take the destiny."

Joséphine stifled a groan, simply tightening her crossed arms as she shot a nuanced glare at Mathieu. "Then at least let Benoît and I show him how it's done. _Again_."

"There is not time for that," Geneviève replied, making her way over to Mathieu. "In a few hours, he will be leaving for Ever After High. Once he gets there, I expect him to get his act together at the school grounds."

At his aunt's cutting gaze, Mathieu gulped silently. "Y-yes, Aunt Geneviève."

A slight grin came to the woman's otherwise stern expression. "Good. Benoît, Joséphine, help him get ready as you see fit," she commanded, turning toward the door and already beginning to walk out. As she left their sight, she called back, "and don't buy anymore of those overpriced contacts!"

Mathieu raised an eyebrow, looking at his cousins. "Overpriced contacts?"

Benoît looked back at him. His eyes were the color of smoke and steel, cold and fierce. They were the same color as his mother's eyes. They were the same color as his sister's eyes. They were even the same color as his late uncle's eyes, the the irises of the last Judge Claude Frollo.

They were also the same color, Mathieu noted, as the pair of contacts that Benoît was holding out to Mathieu. "Put them on. They're colored _and_ prescription."

"Where did you get those?" Mathieu asked.

"It's called the MirrorNet, little Mathieu," Joséphine replied. "Unfortunately, mother found out we used her card to pay for them, and she thinks it's a waste to buy more."

"So why do I need to wear them?"

"Because we already bought the one pair and we have no use for them," Joséphine explained. "Even if we can't get another pair, you should at least look sharp for your first day…"

"That's not what I meant," Mathieu murmured.

"Of course not," said Joséphine.

"Your eyes reflect your soul," said Benoît. "Of course, we have told you such things before. The Judge Frollo has almost always had gray eyes, so why stand out?"

"Oh, right!" Joséphine said, snapping her fingers. "Your eyes are blue. Like, really, _really_ blue. Innocently blue," she continued. "Innocence is a dangerous thing, Mathieu. Particularly for a future villain such as yourself."

Mathieu nodded, still appearing confused. Benoît shoved the contact container into the brunet's hand. "It's strange, really," the blond commented. "You got those blue eyes despite being destined to become a monster."

"Alright, alright. I _almost_ get the point of your odd, philosophical argument," Mathieu said, lifting a finger. "I'll put them on."

"Just remember," Joséphine called as Mathieu left the room, "you got those eyes from your mother!"

Despite the seriousness of her tone, the words seemed to mock Mathieu, following him as he walked down the hallway. "I know," he muttered, knowing very well that Joséphine wouldn't hear the two words.

* * *

After the twins had painstakingly straightened Mathieu's curly, unorganized hair, the teen had been given clothes they picked out and sent to his room to go change. He did not really fancy the outfit, with a black vest covered in a flame pattern that was too flashy for his taste, or the uncomfortable black shoes that held the same pattern near the soles. The brick red jeans with crosses at the pockets were far too tight for his liking, and the purple beret with a red string falling to his chin looked, in his opinion, rather stupid. The only pieces of the ensemble he really didn't mind were the cross necklace that he'd always worn and the red-and-purple striped jacket that, for whatever reason, didn't have a zipper or anything else to close the front. The worst part, in his mind, was the black cape that fell to his knees, apparently sewn onto the shoulders of the coat.

It was at this point, looking in the mirror, that Mathieu determined that he did not look anything like himself. The gray contacts that replaced his glasses weren't helping in this aspect, but he really didn't feel like taking them off at that moment for the inevitability that his cousins would be arguing with him about it for the duration of the trip to Ever After High.

At least, that's the reason he told himself that he wasn't going to take them off just yet.

Mathieu rested his hand on the doorknob, knowing that the twins would be right on the other side, waiting to get a glimpse of how he looked in his new outfit. Swallowing the sense of dread that came with such a thought, he opened the door.

A moment of silence, two eager pairs of gray eyes shifting their focus to the teenager in the doorway. Then, a gasp. "Finally, something gone right with you!" Joséphine exclaimed, pushing a fist into the air in triumph. Mathieu didn't even pretend to be incredulous.

Benoît smirked. "A perfect fit. I always knew my tailoring skills were supernatural."

Once Aunt Geneviève came upstairs to retrieve the three teens, the blonds quickly rushed down and out the front door, dragging Mathieu behind with astounding force. From there, it should have been a smooth trip to the hybrid carriage.

Alas, there was one last delay as a small, redheaded girl with a prominent hunchback rushed over. "Mattie!" she called as she neared Mathieu, wrapping her arms around him and giving him a surprisingly tight hug.

"Whoa! Hey there, little Marie," Mathieu greeted in a quiet tone, unable to help but smile. When he looked down at the girl, her expression appeared dutiful, eyes set in determination. He knelt down, briefly returning the hug before patting her head affectionately. "What brings you here?"

"Miss Sophie and Mister Jean let me come see you," the girl explained, briefly looking back at the two adults standing beside a nearby carriage. As Mathieu's tone had gone quiet, her own voice was now hushed as well. "I had to give you a hug before you left again! And I haven't seen you _all summer_ since you moved in with Miss Geneviève. I wanted to visit at least this once…."

Mathieu gave a small, inaudible sigh, though a bit of a smile still played on his lips. "I'm sorry about that, Marie. This has been a very busy summer."

"I know," Marie murmured, her shoulders slumping a bit. However, they quickly rose back up. "You had to get used to being with your family, yeah? Maybe I'll be able to do that soon, too."

"Maybe," Mathieu replied optimistically, though inwardly he wasn't so certain. Marie had spent five of her eleven years at the same foster home Mathieu himself had been placed in, and he knew how she always had her mind set on meeting a long-lost family member, as had coincidentally happened with Mathieu at the end of the last school year.

The most he could hope for was her adoption. Every time an eager couple came around, they'd always be polite with Marie, but he knew what they were thinking. That they wouldn't be able to take care of Marie, not only because she was shaped a little differently, but mainly because she was a storybook child. No couple, no matter how prepared, would take a child who was destined to become an isolated bellringer after graduation.

Of course, no one wanted a villain's spawn, either. Mathieu's situation had been a fluke, an odd discovery that Geneviève Frollo made when trying to enroll her own child into Ever After High. It was a small coincidence that there was already a son of Claude Frollo one year older than her own children. The children she'd been preparing their whole lives for one to take the role. She wouldn't just stand by and watch an entirely different Frollo take the helm without taking him under her wings and training him under her watchful eye.

Marie giggled. "Are you going to see Ellie, again?"

Mathieu blinked. He'd almost forgotten about Ellie, the long-distance girlfriend whose hexts and calls he'd been avoiding all summer. "If she's attending Ever After High again this year, then probably."

"Tell her I said 'hi', okay?" Marie asked, her face serious once again.

Mathieu patted Marie's head once again. "Will do," he told her before standing back up. "See you later, Marie."

"Bye, Mattie!" Marie sang, running back over to the ones called Ms. Sophie and Mr. Jean. As the two looked up and gave Mathieu a polite wave, he waved back, his other arm already in Joséphine's grip as she pulled him toward the hybrid carriage.

"Okay, okay, I'm coming," Mathieu muttered, wriggling out of Joséphine's grip before getting into the vehicle and sitting down. Benoît sat next to him, with Joséphine and Aunt Geneviève sitting across.

"Now, remember your goals, young Claude," Geneviève told Mathieu as the carriage began to move, an unspoken glare in her almond eyes. "You are to someday lock that young girl away in a bell tower and attempt to kill the one person who will come to mean most to her."

Mathieu's shoulders slumped, his posture in the seat dropping.

"How you've managed to let it get to the point where you are friends is beyond my comprehension," Geneviève continued, leaning just slightly forward. She was directly across from Mathieu, leaving no room to escape her gaze. "And you even have a girlfriend, yes? A _princess_ girlfriend, who is destined for another man? What do you think you could give her that a wholesome, handsome, hardy prince couldn't provide?"

Mathieu sunk down slightly in his seat. That cold stare and those words uttered through a deceptively soft tone made Mathieu want to dissolve into oblivion. Or at least get out of that carriage.

"You never think ahead. You're so innocent like that," Geneviève mused. "And innocence is a dangerous thing, young Claude. Your mother was innocent, and look where she ended up."

Again with the mentioning of his mother. The other three Frollos always spoke of her as though she were worse than the flames of Hell and less worthy than dirt, all because of the innocence they believe she transferred to the destined villain that was her son.

"Joséphine and Benoît, on the other hand, have acquired the perfect level of purity and corruption, of intimacy and distance, of affability and animosity. Down to a _science_, even."

And Mathieu did not protest. He no longer felt like fighting the legacy he'd been against for so long. He had eventually accepted the terrible things he'd have to do, as well as the scorching result that would come to claim his life. He would imprison Marie. He would lust after a gypsy girl and attempt to burn her at the pyre. He would set houses alight for the sake of pitiful delusions. And why? What had become of him? _Nothing_, he reminded himself. _It's not what I've become. It's what I've always been._

_This is The Hunchback of Notre Dame. It is a tale of a man and a monster._

_But who is the monster, and who is the man?_

These are the words that followed him as the carriage steadily made its way for Ever After High.

* * *

**Author's Notes: I didn't intend to make this chapter angsty in the slightest. The next chapter will be funnier. I swear.**

**So! The six-option poll is completed, and Mathieu Frollo's story has been requested, winning with 50% of the votes. I really wanted this chapter to go like Finn's first chapter, with a glimpse of home life, then arriving at the school, then meeting the roommate. Unfortunately, the 'home life' portion took way longer than I intended(because Mathieu's family is so talkative in comparison to Finn's), so Mathieu's roommate will remain a mystery until the next chapter.**

**Version Notes: Disney's The Hunchback of Notre Dame is being used for this story. ****Yes, I realize that this deviates from 'canon', but that doesn't deter me.**

******Disclaimers: Ever After High belongs to Mattel.**

**********_Mathieu Frollo, Marie Dimanche, "Ellie",_ and non-fairytale OCs such as _Joséphine Frollo, Benoît Frollo, _and_ Geneviève Frollo_ belong to me.**

**************Thank you for reading! R&R if you wish. I would love to hear your feedback.**


	2. Radiant and Rebellious Roommate

**Rated T just to be safe, potentially for future chapters, and possibly for the number twelve.**

* * *

_Mathieu Frollo_

_and_

_Skullivan Koschei_

Mathieu looked over the sign on the door once again. Skullivan Koschei? He had to admit that it was not a name he recognized, no matter how hard he thought of it. Still thinking, he took the key he'd been given and unlocked the door.

Skullivan? That didn't sound like a very pleasant name. Then again, Mathieu really couldn't judge a book by its cover. In fact, he really couldn't judge much of anything. He always took time to make up his mind and rarely ever came to a strong conclusion on things. For this reason, most avoided trying to ask his opinion on various matters, as no one could stand the delay before he gave his answer- except, perhaps, for Finn Witch. For a future antagonist destined to steal a merman's voice and then try to kill him three days later, that guy had the patience of a saint.

It was for this reason that Mathieu had actually almost enjoyed having the proudly malicious son of the evil sea witch as his roommate.

During his first year, Mathieu had roomed with Aaron Triton, future king of Atlantica and cousin of the next Little Mermaid. The two had never been close, rarely ever speaking to each other outside of important matters. Aaron had, understandably, seemed wary of Mathieu, which in turn made made Mathieu wary of him. In the end, it could be said that the two came to hold a begrudging respect for each other over their shared views and somewhat snarky behavior. Something about the whole situation had seemed bit odd to Mathieu. Most of those born of Royal blood liked to make it very clear how they felt about antagonists, but Aaron was so terse and serious that Mathieu never really knew exactly what the other teen felt.

Then, in his second year, Mathieu found himself in the same room as Finn Witch, the most nonchalant evil sea witch Mathieu had ever known(not that Mathieu knew of that many other sea witches). What seemed so off about Finn was the fact that he always claimed to be proudly vile and heinous while never really doing anything evil. In fact, the majority of other young tales thought of him as one of the most evil students in the school, and the cecaelia had never laid a finger on any of them! Mathieu supposed it was an art that the fellow future antagonist had mastered, or perhaps his closed, monotone nature and dark aura were just off-putting enough that Finn didn't really have to _try_ in order to be evil. Then again, he was at the top of his class in the majority of villain-based subjects. Nonetheless, by the time the year was over, Mathieu had actually found himself forming some sort of clumsy friendship with the older teen, though Finn would clearly protest otherwise. Maybe it was because, unlike so many classmates before him, the sea witch was somehow able to put up with the brunet's previous protests against being evil.

A small thought made Mathieu smile just a bit as he grasped the doorknob. Now that the judge-to-be was embracing his evil legacy, perhaps Finn would be impressed. Maybe they could even hang out and do some heinous deeds together, whatever that really meant.

The brunet opened the door, and the smile dropped. A tall, stick-thin figure with long, stringy white hair loomed over one of the beds. The creature's head made a swift turning motion toward the doorway, making an audible _crack_ from its neck. Russet eyes, sunken in their sockets, looked Mathieu up and down, causing him to tense up. Its hands, which lacked the waxy skin of his face, curled its skeletal fingers lightly, creating more small _crack_s. Shivers ran down Mathieu's spine as it slowly straightened out its form, momentarily fixing the position of the red, patterned t-shirt with a white skull emblem that was donned underneath a black leather jacket.

Then Skullivan's thin lips curved into a smile as he lifted one hand, giving a friendly wave. "Hello! Mathieu, yes?" he inquired, a thick Russian accent present in his playful voice.

Mathieu blinked, nodding slowly. He remembered, now: Skullivan Koschei, better known as Skully, was a senior student who had been in one of Mathieu's classes last year. The two had spoken but once, though the future antagonist did scold himself inwardly for not remembering a student as distinct as the unfailingly cheerful son of Koschei the Deathless.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Come on in," Skullivan said, waving the younger teen over in what was a rather welcoming gesture considering the immortal's skeletal hands.

"R-right," Mathieu replied blankly. Although he was rather glad that his roommate's attitude didn't seem nearly as intimidating as his appearance may have implied, the brunet seemed as though he were in a daze as he picked up his luggage and entered the room. He immediately made his way over to the empty bed.

"I hope you don't mind sleeping by the window," Skullivan added. "I just can't bring myself to sleep there. It may sound odd, but I swear to Grimm I can feel the winter chills even when the window is closed!"

Mathieu shook his head. His roommate's decidedly cheery, pleasant conversation was proving difficult to warm up to, and Mathieu certainly didn't resist. "I don't mind," he replied. "I actually prefer it. Gives me a better view of what's going on outside."

Skullivan nodded, sitting down on the edge of his bed as Mathieu began to unpack. "Did you bring any pets?"

"Um, no," Mathieu answered. "I mean, I would have brought my dog, but she had to stay home." Mathieu could hear his own voice softening as he finished the sentence. He cleared his throat. "How about you?"

"Sort of," Skullivan informed.

"Sort of?" Mathieu asked.

Skullivan nodded. "Keeper is buried somewhere in the Enchanted Forest."

Mathieu blinked. "B-buried?"

Skullivan nodded once again, quickly adding, "He's still alive, though. It's just that no one can no where he is, because if someone found him in that iron chest he's inside of, they could find my life source, and…it's complicated."

"Oh," said Mathieu. Though he was still confused, he decided not to pry into the matter, instead saying nothing more.

After a moment, Skullivan straightened himself before leaning back against the wall the bed was pressed against. "I have heard things about you," he stated casually.

Mathieu slowly turned his head, alert. "...What kind of things?"

"Not much," Skullivan admitted, "but I know that, even after you pledged, you did not want to be tied to your destiny."

Mathieu quickly snapped the direction of his head back toward his luggage. "Is that so?"

Skullivan nodded. "It is," he replied. "You want to stay good. I, too, know students like that. Students like us, who do not want to succumb to evil."

Mathieu mumbled something under his breath.

"What is that? Sorry, I could not hear you," said Skullivan.

"I said that you're wrong," said Mathieu. He tried to keep his voice nonchalant, but it turned out stiffer than he'd intended. "I'm embracing my villainous nature, now."

Skullivan was silent for a moment, and Mathieu took great effort not to regret his decision. "...Is that so?" the immortal asked finally.

"It is," Mathieu said with a shrug. "What of it?"

Silence hung between the two. It was oddly polite, but also filled with an awkward sort of tension. Mathieu told himself it was Skullivan's own fault that he was so surprised. After all, Skully Koschei had always been an oddity in more ways than one. There was nothing unusual with a formerly "good" student coming to accept their evil side.

* * *

"Mathieu?"

Hearing a rather familiar monotone- and Grimm knows how difficult it was to make a monotone voice distinctly recognizable- the young judge-to-be turned his head. At a nearby table sat a swarthy fellow with black hair and four black tentacles attached to his back. Finn Witch, son of the evil sea witch, still had all of his trademarks, from the golden nautilus shell resting against the front of his purple shirt to the partly-closed state of his bored, green eyes.

There was one thing, however, which Mathieu was quick to take note of. There appeared to almost be some sort of expression on the sea witch's face for once, slight as it was. Was he...surprised? The thought caused Mathieu to suddenly recall the change in his appearance, and he changed his demeanor as well as he could to match.

"What?" the brunet asked, the slight moodiness in his tone surprising even to himself as he slumped down a couple of seats away from Finn.

"You look...darker," Finn replied. The acknowledgement caused an excited grin to come to Mathieu's face. He tried to cover it up with a more sly expression, but this simply caused Finn to raise an eyebrow.

"You like?" Mathieu inquired. "I got some new threads over the summer. I think they reflect my inner evil so much better. Don't you?"

A smirk twitched its way onto Finn's otherwise steely face. "So you finally gave into social pressures, huh?"

Mathieu blinked, the grin dropping. "What? No, I'm...I'm evil, now…" he muttered, his sly act dissipating as it became clear Finn wasn't all that impressed with the new look. "That's...that's what the point of the new clothes are...they reflect my total reinvention, and…" the young antagonist trailed off, not certain where he was going with this.

Finn nodded. "Oh, yeah. Uh-huh. So you _did_ give into the pressures."

Mathieu fell silent, scratching the back of his head. After a moment, he tried to start up an entirely different conversation with the cecaelia, only to soon be greeted by fellow villain by the name of Laima Serpentis. The first thing he caught were her eyes, which were golden and flecked with silver, somehow snake-like in nature. However, that wasn't what intimidated him most about the girl that now sat between him and Finn. What caused that feeling was something he couldn't quite place.

He was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of her voice. "You are...Mathieu, yes?"

Mathieu nodded, finding himself somehow discomforted. Perhaps it was the snake curled around her arm, or the other serpent that glared curiously at him from its spot on the desk.

The slight smirk laced on Laima's lips became smug as she shook her head. "Pathetic," she murmured offhandedly before turning back to Finn.

Mathieu shook his head in disregard, zoning out once again as he scanned the room for familiar students. At another table on the opposite side of the room sat Skullivan, who Mathieu hadn't happened to have seen since he left the dorm. At the back of the cauldron room sat Rocky Wolf, one of the most ferocious werewolves at Ever After High. Sitting on the other side of Mathieu, he realized, was second-year Eira Maiden. The upbeat, green-haired daughter of the Ice-Maiden was sitting with a loose posture, her foot tapping the floor as she listened to music through her earmuff-headphones.

Catching Mathieu's glance, Eira gave a small, polite wave and a friendly smile. Mathieu waved back as an odd, brick red image flashed in the girl's light blue eyes, reminiscent of death itself. Mathieu tried not to shiver in fear of offending the girl, for he knew of her misfortune at having inherited the trait of death's likeness flickering in her irises from her mother.

Then those crystalline eyes shifted from Mathieu to the doorway, and the brunet was suddenly aware of the murmurs and chatter that filled the room. Turning his head, Mathieu could see the cause.

Raven Queen stood uncomfortably at the classroom's entryway. The front of her black-and-violet locks were pulled back, showing a spiked silver headband. Eerie purple eyes glanced around the room, clearly discomforted, as she went to take a seat. This was her, the legendary daughter of the Greatest Evil Ever After Has Ever Known. And Mathieu couldn't hold back a small gasp.

In seconds, he saw a pair of golden eyes looking at him in disbelief. He blinked, clearing throat. "Err. I, ah…you see, it's just that she's so...um…her hair is...?"

Finn held a hand up, shaking his head. "You're a cowardly piece of evil, Frollo. No need to try and justify it."

After a short exchange about who was and wasn't good at being evil, the tardy bell rang. While Mathieu was more than eager to keep the conversation going, there was no way he'd be the one to get on Mr. Badwolf's nerves by talking as the big, bad General Villainy teacher took attendance, so the brunet kept his mouth shut. As the teacher began to call names, all rumbled in the same feral huff, Mathieu caught a few recognizable names here and there.

_Mathieu Frollo. Skullivan Koschei. Malise LeFou. Eira Maiden. Laima Serpentis. Finn Witch._

There was one student, it appeared, who was mysteriously missing.

"Where is _Mariane Gothel_?" Mr. Badwolf growled, his eyes narrowing. Hex. No one wanted to be caught in a classroom with Mr. Badwolf when there was an unexcused absence. Already, some students appeared to brace themselves, and Mathieu was not an exception.

Then came a knock to the door of the cauldron room. The next thing Mathieu saw was a girl standing in the middle of the open doorway, the knob having been turned by a nearby troll. The girl was rather tall and thin, with prominent cheekbones and thin, mischievous gray eyes. Not the same gray as Mathieu's father, or even his aunt and cousins, but a gray that somehow managed to be warm and playful.

Her black blouse was perfectly wrinkled, her skirt intricate with a silver and red-violet design under translucent black fabric. At her waist was a red-violet belt with a silver buckle. With matching heels that made her stature even taller and her practiced, relaxed-yet-upright posture, she radiated power. This, however, was not the most glaring detail.

No, that detail was mentioned in the whispers that flooded the room.

"Have you ever seen her at this school before?"

"No, but she's definitely not a first-year."

"She's got a nice bandana...but where is her hair?"

Indeed, whatever signature locks would have flowed from her scalp were instead replaced by a violet-red bandana with a floral pattern. The girl looked down at the small troll who had opened the door for her. "You appear…" the girl stopped for a moment, furrowing her brows as though trying to find the proper word. "...Pitiful."

Mr. Badwolf gruffly cleared his throat. "Miss Gothel," he barked. "You are late."

The girl chuckled pleasantly, making her way over to a table. "I can see that, Mr. Badwolf. Oh, and on the first day too, how dreadful of me," she said with a small sigh, rolling her eyes.

"Let me tell you, the portal that brought me here? Pitiful," she continued, bringing a cup of coffee to her lips for a moment. "Couldn't get it working yesterday or this morning, though that's probably the mechanics' faults," she explained. "Anyway, I just arrived so long ago and got to class as quickly as I could. After stopping by this one adorable cafe for a Hocus Latte, of course."

Mr. Badwolf's eyes narrowed, his fur ruffling. "I urge you, Miss Gothel, to get a late slip next time. And be swift."

As a menacing yellow glow came to the teacher's eyes, causing Mariane to stiffen her grin. "Ah. Right. Forgot about that," she admitted with a wispy cackle that sounded just as nervous and sheepish as she wanted it to sound.

For whatever reason, Mathieu's focus wouldn't leave the girl without hair. She was already chatting with the girl next to her, who looked at her with heavy-lidded, forest green eyes.

Mathieu tried him best not to catch any lines of their conversation, as he didn't want to eavesdrop, but one line from Mariane did reach his ears.

"Hair has always been such a pitiful thing to me, dear."

Mathieu raised an eyebrow. What an odd thing to say, but it sounded familiar. He'd never seen this girl in school before. Why was it that he appeared to vaguely recognize her nonetheless?

The feeling of the inked end of a quill pricking his skin made Mathieu look back. Two seats away, Finn looked at him, then at Mariane, using the quill's other end to point at her. "You distracted?"

Mathieu shook his head, only to realize that his chin was resting on his palm. He straightened his posture, putting his arm down to his side.

"Liar. Are you...intrigued by her?" Finn asked.

"What do you mean by that?" Mathieu whispered back.

"I mean what I say, Mathieu."

Mathieu gave him an incredulous look. "Well, I mean, she is interesting. But not like _that_."

Finn nodded. "Good. Just wanted to make sure you're not planning to try and reach out of your league."

"Out of my _what_?"

"Mariane's a top notch villain. Beautiful, charismatic toward those of her kind. No powers, sure, but certainly not your average manipulator."

Mathieu raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, alright," he replied, not sure whether or not to take offense to the odd dialogue that Mathieu could only decode as Finn's attempt at giving advice.

"Mr. Witch, could you answer the question?"

At the sound of Mr. Badwolf's question, both boys snapped their heads toward the front of the classroom. Mathieu's eyes momentarily darted over to Finn, only to see Laima whispering something to him.

Finn nodded, looking back at the teacher. "Twelve."

"The name of the most commonly used evil potion is...twelve?" Mr. Badwolf snarled in disapproval.

Laima smirked. Finn returned a slight glare. "Welcome back to school, Witch," the villainess hissed somewhat playfully.

Mathieu couldn't hold back a small snicker, though Laima proceeded to turn toward him.

"Oh, laugh while you can. You're next."

Mathieu's expression changed to one that was unmistakably lacking. "Wait. What?"

* * *

**Author's Notes: So, we actually meet fellow students relevant to the story's plot in this chapter. All is going as planned. With certain intros out of the way, I can start setting up plots next chapter! Woo!**

**Furthermore, enjoy the double-update! I've added a chapter to Finn's story as well as this one in order to give fans of one story or the other(and hopefully both!) something to look forward to.**

**Version Notes: Disney's The Little Mermaid and Beauty and the Beast will be used for this story. Disney's Tangled is also being considered as a tale separate from Rapunzel. ********Yes, I realize that this deviates from 'canon', but that doesn't deter me.**

**Disclaimers: Ever After High belongs to Mattel. So do the canon characters, such as Mr. Badwolf and Raven Queen, who are mentioned in this chapter.**

**_Mathieu Frollo_, _Skullivan Koschei_, _Finn Witch_, _Rocky Wolf_, _Eira Maiden_, _Malise LeFou_, and _Mariane Gothel_ belong to me.**

**_Laima Serpentis_ belongs to the wicked awesome MaiForgottenMemory.**

**_Aaron Triton_, son of Attina from The Little Mermaid, belongs to my BFFA The Mysterious Ms. Enter 2014.**

**Thank you for reading! R&R if you wish.**


	3. With Flowers in Her Bandana

**Rated T just to be safe, potentially for future chapters, and possibly for accusations of actually non-existent lustful thoughts.**

* * *

There was just something about her that he couldn't quite place. Sure, the girl was gorgeous apart from her lack of hair, but that wasn't what had piqued his interest. He was absolutely certain that he'd heard that voice before. He'd seen a girl like that, picking flowers...somewhere. In a distant time he couldn't recall.

The girl rolled her eyes, looking at the green-eyed girl sitting to her left. The eye roll, the dramatic hand gestures, and everything else reminded him of someone. Could it have been her mother? It had to be. It had to be just because she looked and acted so much like her infamous mother, not because of something else.

With that in mind, Mathieu's gaze flickered from her to the group at his own table, only to see Finn giving him a quizzical look.

Mathieu blinked. "...Yes?"

"I was asking if you've seen that precious little girlfriend of yours," said Finn. "You know, the one that you should be focusing on instead of thinking up ways to seduce the most manipulative girl in school."

"I wasn't thinking up anything like that," Mathieu protested. He buried his cheek into his knuckles, elbow perched on the Castleteria table. "I just keep wondering things."

"Sexy, lustful things," Finn muttered, leaning back a bit as he picked up a piece of fish with his fork.

"Okay, now I can't tell if you're teasing me or if you seriously think I'm as lustful of a person as my story requires," Mathieu admitted before taking a bite of his own food.

Finn raised an eyebrow, slightly amused. "Aren't you, though? Didn't you declare something along the lines of 'I'm evil, now' just this morning?"

Mathieu scratched the back of his head. "Well, that's true, but-"

"If you are going to embrace your destiny, you must embrace _all_ aspects of it," Bylino Yaga chimed in. The two third-years turned their heads toward him as though they hadn't noticed him there before.

"Bylino," Finn greeted the fourth-year, faded-brunet son of none other than Baba Yaga with an abnormal amount of caution. "Don't you normally sit elsewhere?"

"Correct, I am normally sitting with Skully in previous years. Helping him realize his potential," Bylino informed. If there was anything that anyone in the school knew about the relationship between adoptive brothers Bylino Yaga and Skully Koschei, it was the fact that Skully absolutely disliked Bylino. Since the distaste was so one-sided, however, it wasn't difficult to imagine Bylino trying to have lunch with the future Koschei the Deathless, if only because Bylino was infamous as an evil mentor combined with the fact that Skully was decidedly _not_ in touch with his villainous side.

"However, I have decided to take this new route," Bylino continued, "by making sure established young villains find themselves acting like proper antagonists. We cannot have the villains of Ever After High gaining an unsuitable reputation, after all."

"Actually, we can," Finn retorted. "You just wouldn't like it."

"I will be keeping an especially close eye on you, Witch," Bylino said, pointing a bony finger. His light amber eyes had almost a malicious smiling effect to them, though the rest of his face remained serious. "You are the leader of the Ever Evil Prep Club, but what evil deeds have your group performed since the formation of the club?"

"Too many to say," Finn replied without missing a beat. "I can compile a list for you to look over later, if you'd like."

Bylino bit his lip, considering Finn's words. "You had best mean what you say, Finn Witch," the long-haired brunet murmured ominously, standing up from his seat. His pointed finger then aimed itself at Mathieu. "As for you...you are weak. You need training. You will find alternate means of this, or I will train you myself."

As Bylino walked off, Mathieu shook his head. "Well, that was weird."

"To be fair, he is the sole Evil Student Representative of the Royal Student Council," Finn muttered. "Though it would probably help if he wasn't just as crazy as his mother."

Mathieu nodded in response. "You bet."

"Back to juicier topics, however," said Finn, "Bylino _is_ right in that you're going to need to be a perverted, genocidal monster."

"I don't recall those being his exact words," Mathieu said flatly, appearing incredulous.

"It's called paraphrasing," Finn reasoned.

Mathieu shook his hand as though to clear the notion. "C-can you just help me talk to Mariane or not?"

"Well, this is rather sudden," said Finn. "Asking me to help you out on your conquests of lust? No can do. Creepy love is Vanessa's thing, not mine."

"I keep telling you, I don't have feelings for her," Mathieu replied, putting his hands down on the table.

"Even if you didn't, which you definitely do, I'm sure she's got little time for fraternizing with a stingless jellyfish, no matter how pathetically evil they try to be," Finn replied.

Mathieu sighed. "Why am I allies with you?"

"Because you just idolize me that much, Matt," Finn replied, reaching over to pat Mathieu's head. It was an oddly playful gesture, particularly when combined with Finn's lack of general expression.

"Well, I'm going to go talk to Mariane, now," Mathieu said awkwardly, pointing his thumb at her table before standing up and turning around. As he saw the girl in her talentedly confident glory, however, his own nerve quickly faded away.

"Alright," Finn said with a dismissive shrug, waiting for the brunet to take his leave. He didn't. The sea witch gave a slight, huffing sigh as he gave his ally an encouraging push in Mariane's direction.

"But really, it must be a hassle," the green-eyed girl said to her friend as Mathieu slowly came into hearing distance. She was nodding, her shoulder-length, dark brown hair bobbing slightly in the process.

Mariane shook her head, flowers strewn throughout her bandana. "Must we bring up this topic once more, Johanna? I tell you, I've perfected my methods; there is not a hair on me from head to toe."

"Not a hair, you say," gray-haired Beau Duckling said quizzically from two seats down, eyes briefly flickering away from his handheld mirror.

The girl sitting between Beau and Mariane, who was none other than Cookie Crone, gave her part-bird friend a light thwacking with an oversized lollipop. "Don't get any ideas, my homely little cygnet."

It was at that moment that Mathieu realized he hadn't thought up anything to say. How was he supposed to introduce himself and his intents? "_Hi, I'm Mathieu Frollo, and I'm pretty sure I saw you one time a long, long time ago"_? Oh, yeah, that wouldn't make him sound like a perverted potential stalker in the slightest. In fact, not only did Mathieu have nothing to say, but he was also approaching this girl when she was surrounded by her peers- most of which were future antagonists and therefore also knew Mathieu to some degree.

_Okay, Matt,_ Mathieu thought to himself, _don't panic._ He didn't really need a topic, right? He'd just wing it. That's what _normal_ tales did in _normal_ social situations. Why couldn't Mathieu just do the same?

"Did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?"

_No. No! What are you doing, me?_ Mathieu asked himself inwardly. He had a girlfriend! On top of that, he wasn't even interested in Mariane in such a fashion! He suppressed the urge to release an audible groan at his own stupidity as he shut his eyes. He wanted to flee at that point, but his joints felt locked in place.

"You bet it did. Landed straight in Hell and had to climb out afterward," the hairless girl responded without missing a beat. Wondering whether or not to gain a sense of hope from the response, Mathieu opened his eyes back up.

The eyes of just about everyone else at the table were on him- save Cookie and Beau, who were still quietly arguing over the connotations of Beau's previous comment. Mariane's face was playful and malevolent, her mouth curved into a wicked smirk. Mathieu took it as a bad sign, his own expression going from questioning to outright nervous.

Then Mariane laughed. It was an endearing but cruel laugh, the roaring laugh of a true noblewoman with the ill cackle of a dark sorceress, though in reality, Mariane was neither. Several seconds passed before her face fell blank, the laughter finding an abrupt ending. She looked down at her nails. "How pitiful. Get away from my table and in line with the rest of the hopeless suitors, will you?"

Mathieu briefly looked around, not sure whether he should have expected a literal line of Mariane's admirers. From the astounding lack of said line, it appeared he shouldn't have. Looking at Mariane, he saw from the corner of his eye the sympathetic look that the green-eyed girl, Johanna, was giving him.

"Right," Mathieu said, awkwardly trying to recover his pride as he dusted off his shoulder in a terrible attempt to seem cool, his limbs slowly allowing him to maneuver himself away from the table. "Well. See you around."

Mathieu sat down beside Finn, letting out a deep breath. He refused to face his former roommate, instead looking down at his near-empty tray. Mariane was much, _much_ more venomous than even Geneviève and her mysterious twins.

Finn shook his head. "Have I ever told you that you're-"

"Pathetic, I know," Mathieu cut in, slumping forward.

"Well, I was going to say naive. Socially awkward, even," said Finn. "Pathetic works too, I guess. Might as well just name any and all areas that need improvement, really."

Hardly waiting for Mathieu's response, Finn continued. "Just don't use cheesy pick-up lines when you've already got a girlfriend. That's the first step."

"I kind of just blurted out the first phrase that came to mind," Mathieu admitted.

Finn nodded. "Mm-hm," he said, seeming to take the time to think of another piece of advice. "Don't do that unless you suddenly become witty." Seeing that the brunet still appeared dejected, the sea witch sighed. "And stop thinking about her. At all. You've got more important matters at hand than some girl who you claim not to be romantically attracted to. Like, you know, actually meeting up with your actual girlfriend."

"I would if I knew where she was," Mathieu reasoned.

"Why not hext her and ask?" Finn inquired.

"Um...so, the thing is, I've kind of been…" Mathieu mumbled, the last bit too quiet and garbled to hear.

"Repeat," said Finn.

"I've kind of been ignoring her hexts and calls all summer," Mathieu repeated a bit more loudly than he'd intended.

Finn made a sound that could almost have been somewhere between a scoff and a snicker. "Wow."

"It's just that a lot of things have happened over the summer, and it would probably be awkward for me to hext her right now," Mathieu said, scratching the back of his head as he looked off to the side.

Finn shook his head. "Still. Tell me, Matt, how close are you and Ellie?"

"Fairly close, I'd think," said Mathieu. "I mean, we don't do a lot of romantic things for obvious reasons."

"Right, sure, your little curse," Finn replied. "But you do have romantic feelings for her."

"I...think so?" Mathieu answered. He hadn't intended for his statement to leave his lips as a question.

"You think so? Matt, you're going to have to be certain about something someday," Finn pointed out. "If you really want your fairy princess, which I'm starting to doubt at this point, find her and speak to her. Or, you know, just break up already so you can stay out of the way of each others' destinies."

"Weren't you just giving me a pep talk about not being socially awkward?" Mathieu asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, of course," Finn answered, "but in that case, your awkwardness stemmed from being cowardly. In this case, however, you have two options: the spineless choice, where you just keep avoiding Ellie, or the socially awkward choice where you seek her out. It's one or the other."

"...I'll hext her after classes are over," Mathieu mumbled in decision.

"Good Frollo," Finn said monotonously as ever, giving a thumbs-up. "For now, just be glad that she doesn't even attend lunch. Confronting you in the major social hub that is the Castleteria could lead to some all-too-interesting media once a slow gossip day rolls around."

"Finn, you sometimes make me wish I cared what the media thought of me," Mathieu muttered. Of course,if there was a slow gossip day, the brief interaction between Mariane and Mathieu would certainly be more than entertaining enough.

"Clearly, you do. More so than the rest of us," Finn said as he stood, holding his empty tray. "Because really, doesn't media play a factor in any rebellious student's decision to follow the script? In addition to even more important factors, of course."

As Finn walked away to toss his trash in the garbage bin, Mathieu looked after him, eyes narrowed quizzically. Why did his ally occasionally have to throw random bits of cryptic phrasing into his conversations? Was that just a sea witch thing, or was that specifically a Finn trait? Perhaps the question was just based on an assumption- and a faulty one at that. The brown-haired antagonist-to-be was certain in his true heart that his will to become more evil was not fueled by anyone else's opinions. At least, that's what he told himself, as faulty as the evidence was.

Watching the cecaelia leave the Castleteria, Mathieu realized that the bell symbolizing the period's end had rung. He quickly threw away his empty tray before going out into the hallway, hardly ready for Kingdom Mismanagement. Mathieu wasn't quite sure why he was in this class, not being the son of any real royalty, but he supposed that being the son of the former most powerful man in Paris was close enough by the curriculum's standards.

The brunet kept his head down, looking straight ahead in order to avoid any uneasy eye contact. He took the opportunity of quietly walking through the hall to think far too much into the class ahead of him. He tried to think of others who might be in Kingdom Mismanagement, though none of the students he could think of were actually in his grade- except, of course, for Antonia Hakan, daughter of the foolish emperor from The Emperor's New Clothes. It was well-known that the somewhat snobbish princess had never wanted anything to do with her destiny. Mathieu couldn't help but wonder if she was still like that, even after her Legacy Year. After all, she did take every precaution possible to keep her embarrassing legacy a secret from her peers until the dreaded day of signing came around.

Hearing a soft voice, Mathieu snapped out of his thoughts. "Mathieu?"

Mathieu blinked, looking at the voice's source. Right beside him was none other than the familiar, wingless fairy with a bright blonde ponytail and brighter blue eyes. Her delicate face appeared relieved, though it soon began to change to something more innocently questioning. Myrtellie Sprigs, daughter of the titular character from The Myrtle, was looking up at him, her lashes unintentionally batting in such a subtle, graceful way as she blinked that it made Mathieu's heart stop in its tracks.

"Oh, it's so good to see you. I haven't spoken to you all summer," Ellie said quietly. "I've been fairy worried. Did you get my hexts?"

"N-no," Mathieu lied upon first instinct so as not to hurt her feelings, though he quickly corrected himself. "Well, actually, yes." He had to remind himself that he couldn't make a single apology during this conversation. After all, showing remorse wasn't a very evil thing to do. "But it's only because I've been really busy this summer."

"Oh, I see," said Ellie. "What ever could have had you so busy?"

"Well, I moved," Mathieu informed. "I'm living with my long-lost aunt, now...it's a long story. In short, I've been refining my devious nature."

"Devious nature?" Ellie repeated, not seeming convinced. "That isn't the Mathieu Frollo I know."

"Right. I've been meaning to talk about that," Mathieu admitted.

The blonde nodded. "So have I. Because when you disappear over the summer and all, it gives me a lot of time to hear what my friends have to say, which in turn gives me too much to think about. Namely, you and me. And our fate."

To be fair, Ellie always had been the bluntly honest sort, a fact which Mathieu had mostly grown used to. Her words, however, caused him to frown slightly.

"I know that we go great together, but maybe not in a romantic way," Ellie continued.

"Because it gets in the way of our tales," Mathieu guessed.

Ellie shook her head. "No. Well, yes," she admitted, "but not just that. We don't do anything romantic, Mathieu. We never have."

"I thought you were cool with that," the brunet said, his tone slightly nervous. "Wasn't that what attracted us to each other? That you didn't want to do romantic things like kissing, or even holding hands, and that I sort of...couldn't?"

"And that's still the case. And it always has been, because I don't want to do romantic things with you," said Ellie. "Granted, I don't want to do them with anybody…"

"I know," Mathieu murmured. "We do act more like friends than anything else. And your destined prince is a second-year, now."

"I guess I just don't know what feelings I'm capable of, yet. Perhaps I haven't matured enough."

"This relationship probably can't work for much longer, anyway. It's not one of fate's plans."

"Maybe we should just break up?"

The two blinked, looking up from the places on the floor that their gazes had been glued to. The two had asked the question in near-perfect unison and appeared to be searching each others' faces for the answer.

"While still staying friends, of course," Mathieu added quickly.

"Naturally," Ellie replied, not missing a beat.

Mathieu gave a slow nod. "Okay, great. Er, and I'll answer your hexts, next time. I really was just busy, I swear to Grimm."

"I understand, now," Ellie said with an uneasy nod of her own. "Well, I should get headed to Princessology. I'll see you later."

"See you," Mathieu agreed, watching as Ellie walked off. As swift as her movements across the hall were, he could tell that her shoulders were quivering even after she had plastered a supposedly relieved smile onto her face. Mathieu took a moment to think, considering that whatever Ellie had been thinking about over the summer was something much bigger than she had been letting on. Maybe, just maybe, she hadn't really wanted to break up.

In all honestly, Mathieu hadn't wanted to break up, either, but there wasn't much of a choice with destiny potentially coming to slap them both in the face shortly after graduation. Besides, in all honesty, their relationship was partly just a cover-up. It was an excuse not to get romantically involved with anyone else while still not acting romantically involved with their chosen partners. Still, there was that other part of the relationship that went much deeper: Mathieu was sure that he had feelings for Ellie, even if he couldn't have acted on them due to a very peculiar condition. At least, that's how he referred to his unusual curse.

Not that it mattered, as the young villain-to-be reminded himself. Trap hunchback in belltower, burn Paris to find gypsy girl, die in fiery pit. There was nothing lovely and romantic about what he was slowly growing set to become.

From behind the brunet was a small giggle. Though it was much different than the familiar girl's previous laugh, Mathieu recognized the source immediately. Turning his head, he was met with eyes of smelted iron, framed by a pale face and topped with a red-violet bandana. Mariane Gothel.

"M-Mariane," Mathieu stammered. "What a surprise. Not a bad one, of course…I think."

"Pitiful, Frollo child. Simply pitiful," Mariane berated as she snaked to the front of Mathieu's line of sight, moving as fluidly as an open flame. "I didn't know you were trying to hit on me without ending it with your own girl, first."

Mathieu crossed his arms. "That's not what happened."

"I recall differently," Mariane replied evenly, putting a hand on her hip.

"Well, okay, so it happened," said Mathieu, "but it wasn't intentional."

Mariane rested her free hand on Mathieu's shoulder, sending electric chills down his spine. "Sounded pretty intentional to me," she retorted. "Oh, well, it doesn't really matter anymore. You've lost her at your own accord, so I'll let bygones be bygones."

Mathieu was speechless as Mariane removed her hand, slowly turning away. "That means you can sit back and watch the show," she continued, "just like everyone else."

As the gray-eyed girl made her way toward her class, Mathieu stood, still at a loss for words. Leaning against the lockers, he asked himself if all villains just felt the need to say something puzzling and mysterious in an offhand manner. Maybe he should try it for himself sometime.

While Mathieu stood there, unconsciously shaking his head and buried within his thoughts, he heard the dreaded tardy bell. Startled, the brunet took off running down the hall. He couldn't be late to Kingdom Mismanagement on the first day of classes! Maneuvering about, he nearly tripped on air as he turned his head to see Mariane still walking at a casual pace. Though Mathieu was quick to pass her, he couldn't help but dwell on that for a moment even within his panic. Was being late for classes just a normal, everyday occurrence for this girl?

As the class number for Kingdom Mismanagement came into view, Mathieu quickened his pace. He was so close, maybe Professor Midas wouldn't even notice! The brunet reached forward, ready to enter the doorway when-

_Slam!_ Professor Midas, oblivious to the appearance of his tardy pupil, had shut the door just as Mathieu's fingers had reached the doorway. He hissed in displeasure, two of his left hand's fingers jammed right between the door and wall. At this moment, he could only appreciate the fact that he wasn't left-handed.

This was going to be a long afternoon, wasn't it?

* * *

**Author's Notes: And this, gang, is how Zashley sets up a plot. It's not good, but at least it gets the story somewhere. Also, Zashley refers to herself in the third person on occasion.**

**Sorry about sort-of-slow updates, that's just how my schedule works. The next chapter for Finn's story should be published by the end of August, and hey, who's to say another chapter of Matt's story won't be posted at that point as well?**

******Version Notes: Another reference to Vanessa, a character from Disney's version of The Little Mermaid that I am putting a twist on in my own story. "Johanna", the mysterious figure she is, also happens to be from a Disney adaptation. Though the following is not technically a version note, it should be noted that Bylino is from various Russian folklore involving the Baba Yaga, including The Death of Koschei the Deathless.**

**********Disclaimers: Ever After High belongs to Mattel. So do the canon characters.**

_**********Mathieu Frollo, Finn Witch, Mariane Gothel, Cookie Crone, Beau Duckling, "Johanna", Bylino Yaga, Myrtellie "Ellie" Sprigs, Skullivan Koschei, Antonia Hakan,**__********** Professor Midas,**_********** and non-fairytale OCs such as _Geneviève Frollo_************ belong to me.**


	4. That Smooth and Chilling Gaze

**Rated T just to be safe, potentially for future chapters, and possibly for _random shivering_.**

* * *

For Mathieu, Science and Sorcery was slowly proving itself to be a cool-down class of sorts, befitting for the last period of the school day. After hitting a rough patch with his new roommate, gaining nothing but confusion from his interactions with fellow antagonists-to-be, and accidentally getting his now-bandaged fingers slammed in a doorway, he could finally just lean back in his chair and relax. He only had to keep listening to Professor Rumpelstiltskin drone on about how this school year would be hex on his students, which Mathieu didn't really mind. As he perched his elbows on the table on front of him, Mathieu considered that some extra studying and busywork might even be good for him.

Glancing off to one side, Mathieu noticed that the student neighboring him didn't seem so enthralled with Professor Rumpelstiltskin's teaching plans. The slightly plump, tan-skinned girl was tapping her pencil against her desk with one hand and anxiously twirling idle locks of her shoulder-length black hair with the other, the pupils of her hazel eyes dilated as she looked down at her copy of the lesson plan that had been handed out. Granted, the lesson plan did happen to be a few good pages longer than most and was comparatively intimidating in its unbelievably minuscule font, even for a reader as avid as Malise LeFou. The fool's young daughter had appeared rather startled as she flipped through pages, counting them.

"Don't worry," Mathieu whispered to the girl, whose eyes flitted from the paper to the brunet. "Professor Rumpelstiltskin usually forgets half of the stuff on that list, anyway."

Malise nodded, setting the papers down. "Right," she murmured, giving a slight sigh. "Ah, Mathieu, right?"

"That's me," Mathieu said, offering his good hand. "Malise, was it? From General Villainy?"

Malise reached out, shaking his hand. "Call me Lise. Parlez-vous français, peut-être?" _Do you speak French, perchance?_

"Oui, en fait," Mathieu answered in his other native tongue, smiling slightly. _Yes, in fact._

The two struck up a hushed conversation, just asking basic things. They didn't dare to get too in-depth with things, particularly their pasts, as those without such appreciated fates were prone to staying away from topics that didn't take place in the present. They shared some interests, marveled over the lesson plan before them, chatted about nothing. It was a decent conversation, and even Mathieu's admittance that he was suddenly pro-destiny didn't seem like such a big deal to the clearly rebellious girl.

A ruler smacked down on the table in front of them, making both students practically jump in surprise. "Mr. Frollo and Miss LeFou, no idle chatter in class!" The short professor scolded, reaching up with his ruler to point it at the two. "After-school detention for both of you!" Grumbling under his breath, the professor walked back to the front of the classroom to continue his torturous lecture.

Malise blushed, quickly lowering her head and shoving her line of focus into her journal. Mathieu sighed, resting his chin in his hand. Feeling something bump against his elbow, he looked down, only to see Malise's hand pushing her notebook toward him. Looking down, he saw what was written on the page.

_Je suis désolé! I didn't think that would happen! I'm such a careless klutz about that sort of thing._

Picking up his pencil, Mathieu wrote a response a few lines down. He couldn't help but notice how light and fluid the girl's handwriting was in comparison to his own, which was rigid and more deeply engraved into the paper.

_Ce n'est pas grave. I wasn't paying much attention, either. At least I'll be in detention with someone I know._

Malise looked up, smiling sheepishly. Her face was flushed pure red. Mathieu grinned back, giving an "oh, well" sort of shrug before both returned their attention to the teacher.

* * *

"Please?" Mathieu asked as he held the MirrorPhone to his ear, his voice hushed. "I'll owe you one, Finn. I have to know."

"Then don't get yourself stuck in detention on the first day of school," the voice on the other end of the line shot back coolly.

"It's not like that was my intention," Mathieu defended, running a hand through the curled tangles of his hair. "You'll be at the practice ceremony anyway, right? I'm only asking you to stay on the look out for any members of my story who may potentially be there."

Finn sighed, the somewhat exaggerated sound filling up the phone's speakers and producing a slight static noise. "I'll see what I can do."

"_Thank you_," said Mathieu.

"Whatever," Finn replied. At the sound of a female voice on his end, Finn cleared his throat. "Ah, Cookie alert. I'm going to get moving. See you."

"See you later," Mathieu said as the call came to and end. Putting the phone back in his pocket, Mathieu checked the time- detention was just about to officially begin- before heading through the door into the detention room.

At the very least, Mathieu felt no real shame in having been given detention by Professor Rumpelstiltskin. Most of the students in detention hall that day, it seemed, had in one way or another managed to get on the sadistic, pint-sized professor's nerves. In the furthermost corner of the room was the dark-skinned, blonde-haired fourth-year student best known as Aurelius Keys, who held a death grip on the iron box in his hands as his amber gaze moved sporadically about the room. Near the front, Antonia Hakan- the active, somewhat snobby daughter of a foolish emperor- was tapping her foot against the floor at her desk, clearly anxious at having been forced to sit still and stay quiet.

In the other back corner was none other than Rocky Wolf. He was a third-year repeat student with bronzed skin and an impressive amount of muscle that was evident from underneath his brown corduroy jacket and somewhat torn pair of jeans. Despite not being particularly tall at 5'8", he was intimidating nonetheless, with messy brown hair and yellow eyes that always had a slight, eerie glow to them. Beside him were Volkova Wolf and Gudgeon Maid, two high-ranking members of Rocky's "Pack". The Pack, as it was simply known, was a group of school bullies that consisted partially of werewolves and was headed by Rocky. Rocky himself was prone mostly to good old-fashioned beatdowns and taunts, though the other members of his pack held special abilities that furthered the group's malicious powers.

Volkova Wolf, daughter of a certain character from Peter and the Wolf, could mimic just about any sound. Combined with her strategic nature, she could trick nearly anyone with her versatile voice. Gudgeon Maid, son of the waiting-maid from The Story of the Youth Who Went Forth to Learn What Fear Was, could give just about anyone the shivers for no apparent reason. The sudden nothingness that provoked the shivers was probably the creepiest feature of all when it came to the boy's unusual Magic Touch. Paired with the unreadable, near-black eyes that scanned the room with smooth, reckless abandon, there was no student that sent chills up Mathieu's spine quite the same way as Gudgeon, even compared to the daughter of the Snow Queen. Since he wasn't destined for evil, however, most of the school didn't take him quite so seriously, even if he was a Pack member.

At the desk right in front of Rocky, appearing to be taunted by the wolf-teen, was none other than Buck Kid, the future mother goat from the same story as Rocky: The Wolf and the Seven Young Kids. The small, slender goat-person had his hands busy with his needlework, making his best efforts to ignore the malevolent brunet behind him, though he did shoot back an even insult every now and then.

With a sudden push from behind him, Mathieu was suddenly aware of his own lingering presence in the doorway. He moved to the side and turned around, only to see the mess of black hair and wide hazel eyes that marked Malise LeFou. She blinked. "Ah, sorry about that, Mathieu! I was in such a rush, I didn't see you standing there when I turned the corner..."

"It's alright, Lise," said Mathieu. "Did you get done with whatever you needed to take care of?" Malise nodded, looking somewhat giddy.

The woman at the teacher's desk cleared her throat. Moving her head, she glared at the person nearest to the door, who happened to be Malise. "Close the door," the teacher demanded in a high-pitched, nasally, tone, pointing a colorless finger at the open doorway.

"Yes, Mrs. Hag," Malise said, obediently doing as the elderly witch had asked.

"Now take a seat, both of you," Mrs. Hag commanded. The two future villains quickly shifted into the seats of a pair of nearby desks. Mrs. Hag adjusted her pointy black hat- an accessory that very few aspiring witches were able to pull off in the modern day- as she spoke, her long, warty fingers trailing through her sickly green hair. "Welcome to Detention Hall, students. Let me assure you, there are many rules that come with being in detention hall. First, no talking. Second, no standing. Third, no use of magic. Do I make myself clear?"

Mrs. Hag made a gesture with her fingers as though ready to cast a hex. The students nodded vigorously, though something odd quickly happened to Mrs. Hag. Her spine straightened, her whole body vibrating for a moment before she stiffened, gasping. Whatever occurred left as quickly as it had begun, leaving the teacher with a look of disbelief on her face. Quite a shiver that was, Mathieu realized, looking back at Gudgeon. The light brunet wasn't the only one looking back at the waiting-maid's son, who in turn was observing his nails like they were the most interesting thing in the world. Casually, he looked up, acting mildly surprised when he noticed the attention his act had garnered. "What?"

The witch's nose crinkled, her eyes narrowing. "What did I just say about using magic, Mr. Maid?"

"It's involuntary, I swear," Gudgeon replied evenly, putting his hands up.

"Involuntary?" Mrs. Hag spat. "We'll see about that. Come with me."

With that, Mrs. Hag made her way over to the door, Gudgeon following without further protest. Just before he was fully out of the room, he looked back, winking at Rocky. The teacher stuck her head back in, her bony pointer finger moving its focus around the room. "I expect the rest of you to behave while I'm dealing with your classmate." With that, the door closed behind her, leaving the class unsupervised.

"Great," Rocky said in a calm, lazy tone, his eyes half-closed and arms folded as he slouched in his seat. "Now we can pick things up where we left off."

In one fluid motion, Rocky was up from his seat and had stepped over to Buck, who the werewolf was now holding by the collar of his shirt. Rocky's face had changed from cool to furious, his sharp teeth bared. His technicolor eyes held a menacing glow as they made unbreakable focus with his prey. The whole class turned toward the action, stunned. "Now, what did you call me, you freaking pansy?"

"I _called_ you a sorry excuse for a monster," Buck spat back, the grip of his slim fingers around his knitting needles tightening. "I'd also like to add that you clearly have no life and desperately need some common sense."

"Yeah? Well you desperately need the common sense to keep your mouth shut," Rocky snarled, throwing the smaller third-year down. After a moment of wince-worthy pain, Buck got back up, ready to retaliate. Volkova was quick to get behind him, however, grabbing the weregoat's arms and pulling them behind his back. With Volkova holding Buck out like a target, Rocky pulled his arm back, ready to deliver a blow.

Just as he was prepared to spring, however, a pair of ice blue eyes appeared in front of him, attached to a girl with green, white-streaked hair. Eira Maiden, the student Mathieu had caught a glimpse of in General Villainy, stood in between the fighting parties, facing Rocky with a grimace taking over her facial features. Mathieu realized that he hadn't even noticed Eira in the room before- but wait, she was a second year. Shouldn't she have been outside, practicing her pledge?

Rocky huffed, his sloppy tongue sliding over his needle-sharp fangs. "Move it, Maiden."

"M-make me, Wolf," Eira muttered, unable to keep a slight stammer from entering her tone.

The door slammed open. The moment Mrs. Hag entered, it was clear that she had not been expecting the sight before her. Her face went from dead gray to pale violet, her hands clenching into fists. She looked over the four participating members- Rocky, Eira, Buck, and Volkova- with an impeccable silence before making her outcry.

"You four! Office! Now!"

* * *

"I can't believe Rocky and Volkova got off with a warning while Buck and Eira got sentenced to more detention," Malise muttered. "How messed up is that? Just because Rocky and Volkova are supposed to do bad things by participating in a fight while Buck isn't, and because Eira was protecting him instead of being evil like she was supposed to..." she trailed off, picking the crust off of the bread-slice in her hand before dipping the edge into her soup.

Mathieu sighed from across the table, barely holding enough appetite toward his own food to consume it. He was too lost in his speculations, examining the situation he had previously observed as it ran through his head like a video on repeat. "Seems strange, doesn't it?" he mumbled.

Bylino shook his head from a few seats down. "It is not so strange when you look for the logic behind it," he reasoned. "Buck and Eira are both destined for a happy- or, at least, neutral- ever after, so it does not matter so much how they are punished in the meantime. I personally believe Rocky and Volkova should have been rewarded for their bad behavior."

"Is that what does it, now?" Mathieu asked, unhurriedly looking up from the cold, smooth surface of the table.

"That is what has always done it," Bylino replied. "Someday you will come to appreciate such a system, Frollo." Mathieu remained silent, which the son of Baba Yaga took as a sign to continue. "Why not cut loose and let your evil side out like you are meant to? Think more Hyde and less Jekyll. More Snow Queen and less Arendelle princess."

"To be fair, the Snow Queen used to be open to interpretation," said Mathieu. "A neutral figure, even. Not like Edel's mother. Not like the Snow Queen who almost tried to emulate the Greatest Evil Ever After Has Ever—" seeing a shift in Bylino's expression, Mathieu stopped himself, thinking he'd gone too far.

"The sea witch was also a neutral figure, back once upon a time," Bylino pointed out. "And the first Frollo used to not be such a bad fellow before lust came into the picture." The fourth-year tapped the side of his head in gesture. "Should indicate how easy it is to fall into evil, yes? Why you are having a problem with it is beyond me. Same goes for you, Miss LeFou."

Malise scratched the back of her head, hand brushing against her short ponytail. "_C-c'est un travailler en cours_," she mumbled, trying to look indignant as she pulled at the edges of her dark brown jacket. "Er, work-in-progress. That's what it is."

"Same here," Mathieu added.

"You would both do well to think of a method fairly soon," said Bylino, "or I will need to teach you the ways of villainy myself."

Malise shivered, clearly adverse to the mere thought of the next Baba Yaga's possible teaching methods.

"And how do you plan on doing that?" Mathieu asked, raising an eyebrow.

Bylino snorted. "Simple," he stated matter-of-factly. "I will use magic. There is a special ritual that was created specifically as a last-ditch effort to teach wimpy antagonists a lesson."

Malise bit her bottom lip. Mathieu rested a hand on his temple, slowly leaning in the direction opposite of Bylino. "...Of course there is."

Spotting a moving flash of green in the Castleteria's doorway from the corner of his eye, Mathieu turned his head. It was Eira, who had promptly fled to Grimm-knows-where shortly after her run-in with the others. She appeared mostly at peace with herself as she made her way over to the Castleteria line, which was relatively empty since she had arrived so late for the final meal of the day.

The appearance connected to a question that Mathieu suddenly found himself with. "Where the hex is Finn?"

"Probably keeping his hands occupied in an attempt to improve that odd club of his," Bylino offered. Mathieu blinked, not realizing he'd asked his question aloud.

"The evil club, you mean?" Malise inquired. "I thought you would be all for a club like that."

"Of course I am, but there is a good finesse that comes with being evil," said Bylino. "The sea witch may keep a frightening reputation, but in reality, he hardly performs tasks of true antagonism. This is reflected in the lack of activity within his club. He, too, is like Arendelle princess. Not a good fit for leading the Ever Evil Prep Club."

"What do you mean?" Malise asked. "That sea witch is definitely evil! He's so s-scary, and—"

"If you find a fellow villain to be scary, Miss LeFou," said Bylino, "you need more help than I thought."

Mathieu scratched the back of his head. "As someone who has actually spent a year rooming with 'that sea witch'," he reasoned, "I know for a fact that he is, in fact, _somewhat_ proactive about his evil tendencies. More than I am, anyway." He nearly shivered at the recollection of some of Finn's darker schemes.

Bylino snapped his finger as an idea came to him. "That's it! Mathieu, I am recruiting you to enlist the sea witch's help in your progression toward villainy. Perhaps you could both teach each other a thing or two?"

"Wait, what?" the light brunet asked in surprise.

"While he mentors you, I want you to reawaken this supposed proactivity," said Bylino.

"And what makes you think I'll do that?" Mathieu replied. "In fact, what makes you think I _can_ do that?"

"Are you saying that you are not comfortable asking an ally for assistance?" Bylino accused, eyes narrowing in a slightly taunting manner. "You two did not seem too distant at lunchtime."

"Of course we're not too distant," Mathieu muttered. He thought it over in his mind before sighing. "I guess it would be easier to ask him than anyone else. Even if I owe him enough favors as-is."

"That's a good little judge," Bylino crooned, smirking wickedly.

Malise cleared her throat. "Um, and what about me?"

Bylino shifted his gaze toward Malise slowly, as though he dreaded meeting her gaze. "You, little sidekick, can go ask your Gaston."

"I hardly know my Gaston," Malise argued.

"Then this would be a great chance to get to know him."

As Malise and Bylino continued to converse over the matter of the former's teachings, Mathieu saw Eira walking by their table. She held two trays of food, one in each hand, and appeared to be moving with impossible fluidity at her leisurely pace.

"Eira?" Mathieu called. The green-haired girl turned her head, low-set pigtails brushing against her dark green coat.

"Oh, hey there...Matthew?"

"Close enough," said Mathieu. "I think what you did back in the detention hall was pretty cool."

"Um, thank you," Eira responded, a slight red filling her normally pale-pink cheeks. "I'm glad someone appreciates a destined villain trying to take justice."

Mathieu smiled. "Ah, say, would you like to sit with us?"

Eira's eyes widened a bit at the proposal. "I'd take like to take you up on that offer," she admitted, "but I can't. I've actually got to get to a friend of mine."

"I see," said Mathieu. "Ah, in that case, I'd hate to keep you. See you in General Villainy."

"See you," Eira replied before continuing her way out of the Castleteria. The trays she held were at a perfect balance his her hands, even as she began to rush like the wind, turned a corner, and bounded out of sight.

Mathieu gave a small sigh. He looked over at Bylino and Malise, who still appeared to be in a slight argument. He took that as an opportunity to silently slide form his seat, toss his near-empty tray in the trash, and head out into the halls. The main thing on his mind at that moment was Bylino's suggestion. He reached into his pocket, about to pull out his MirrorPhone as he turned the corner. Just then, however, he caught a familiar form. The figure was slightly slouched, dressed in pure black, four extra appendages coming from the back of the silhouette. A smaller form, bearing a straight posture and clearly light on its feet pushed open one of the doors in the hallway, creating a loud noise as the door slammed against the inside wall.

Mathieu raised an eyebrow as he came up to the two figures. They lingered in front of an open staff room door, the smaller form putting a slightly-bent bobby pin back into its pocket.

"...What are you doing?"

* * *

**Author's Notes: Oh, look, Mathieu made a friend. Maybe he's not a total loser. And so, with this in mind, we lead into the second half of Finn's fourth chapter. These stories should shape up to be fairly understandable on their own, but it's much easier to comprehend the full story if one reads Finn's tale alongside this one.**

**********D********isney Version Notes: Disney's Beauty and the Beast, as I believed I may have mentioned elsewhere.**

******************Disclaimers: ****Ever After High belongs to Mattel. So do the canon characters, such as Professor Rumpelstiltskin and The Greatest Evil Ever After Has Ever Known, who are mentioned in this chapter.**

**********************_Mathieu Frollo, Malise LeFou, Finn Witch, Cookie Crone, Aurelius Keys, Antonia Hakan, Rocky Wolf, Volkova Wolf, Gudgeon Maid, Buck Kid, Eira Maiden, Bylino Yaga, Edel Weiss,_ and _Mrs. Hag_ belong to me.**

**********************Time for shout-outs! Thank you so much to Rosalind Queen of Fangirls, Artisticprocrastornater, Evangeline74, TooMuchSarcasm, Kid Flash I-Wally West, Jedicatgirl81, Night Lithium, and Wonderland Princess of Hearts for your kind and helpful reviews!**


	5. Sleepless Night at the Club Room

**Rated T just to be safe, potentially for future chapters, and possibly for allusions to future murder/future attempted murder. Nothing graphic, of course.**

* * *

The first shadowy figure, obvious even from a distance, that Mathieu had caught in the hallway had been none other than Finn himself. The second figure, as it would happen, had been Gaines Goodfellow, a red-haired fairy with a disgruntled attitude and a mischievous streak.

"Aren't you supposed to be in the Castleteria, Mathieu?" Finn asked. He was calm and collected as ever, not a single ounce of his voice or body language giving way to the fact that he'd been caught breaking into a staff room. Thinking back on it, Mathieu could recall only a single time that the sea witch had ever dared to look anxious, or worried, or just about _anything_ apart from monotonous evil and mild amusement.

"Actually, most of the students are finishing up," Mathieu informed.

Finn's facial features shifted only slightly, an almost annoyed look taking place. "Great. Thanks for the warning," he said. He looked back at his fae companion, who seemed impatient to make his way into the school engineer's room. "Gaines, move fast."

Mathieu crossed his arms, wondering how his former roommate could seem so nonchalant about his current activity. "Again, what are you doing?"

The cecaelia sighed, leaning against the frame of the doorway. "I'm doing a favor. For Laima. And if you don't want her mischievous wrath the reign upon you in the form of one-liners and misinterpretation, I suggest you go on your merry way." Finn turned his back to Mathieu, returning his attention to Gaines.

"Wait," Mathieu said suddenly. Realizing that he'd reached his arm out toward his ally, ready to grab him by the back of the shirt, the light brunet quickly pulled away before the other third-year could notice. "I've kind of been looking for you. I need to ask if you'd be willing to, well, um…"

"Spit it out or don't say anything," Gaines muttered. The first-year began to look around the room, picking up seemingly pointless items and opening mysterious treasure chests of various designs.

Mathieu cleared his throat, rubbing his arm. This was as good of a time as any to ask for his particular favor. "...Teach me how to be evil?"

Taking note of Finn's confused expression, Mathieu bit his lip. "What? It was a question, nothing more. I figure, y'know, if I already need to be evil and all, and you're so proficient at it that everyone just believes you're evil when you don't actually—"

"Be at the courtyard at midnight," Finn swiftly interjected. He looked carefully over at Gaines, almost as though to make certain that the red-head hadn't heard Mathieu's rambling. "That's when the initiation ceremony for the Ever Evil Prep Club begins."

Mathieu sighed, not certain about whether to feel relieved about his favor being well-received or frightened about the well-hyped, supposedly dangerous initiation ceremony boasted by the school's Ever Evil Prep Club.

"Found it," Gaines called from behind a simple wooden desk, holding up a map. With its yellowed paper and torn edges, it resembled a pirate map more than an official blueprint, though that was to be expected.

"Good fae," Finn called back. "Now, let's get out of here before—"

"Ye scurvy blaggards! Get out of me doorway!"

Then a large, lumbering pirate with a hook for a hand- none other than the school's engineer- came stomping down the hallway, a mighty and vicious look in his unearthly yellow eyes. And the students made a _run_ for it.

* * *

Mathieu sat in his room, mulling over the obnoxious cape that was quite literally attached to the shoulders of the aesthetically pleasing jacket before him. Since finally catching a break and getting a chance to return to his new domain, he'd already discarded the silly hat, along with the flame-patterned vest. He'd traded his tight red pants in for a pair of regular jeans, and his boots had been gladly replaced by a red pair of casual shoes. He adjusted his glasses, thankful that he had managed to keep them on his person once his gray contacts had outlived their usefulness.

According to Finn, who had admitted that he wasn't paying much attention during the Legacy Day practice ceremony, there had been no gypsy girl in sight. Mathieu was slightly disappointed by the news but also felt oddly thankful. After all, the younger the next Esmeralda was, the more time Mathieu would have before his story was slated to begin.

Settling on feelings of relief, Mathieu searched through one of his bags for a pair of scissors. The bandages of his fingers touching a smooth, tapered surface, Mathieu pulled out the object he'd first grabbed. What he pulled out what not a pair of scissors. Rather, in his hand was the egg-white shell of an Atlantic jackknife clam. It gleamed in the dim light of the room, almost entirely untarnished if not for the fact that it had long ago been painted blue at the opening of the mouth. The faded marks were fashioned as overlapping streaks, which had no intention of coming out entirely no matter how vigorously the shell was washed.

This had been Finn's, as Mathieu suddenly recalled. The brunet only briefly allowed himself to reminisce about how he had obtained it. Why had he brought it to school? How had it escaped his notice when he was packing his things, getting tossed in with the school supplies?

Mathieu shook his head, placing the shell on top of his alarm clock. He continued looking through the supply bag- colored quills, regular quills, highlighting quills, some not-quills- until he finally came across the pair of scissors he'd been seeking in the first place. Pulling them out and shoving the bag back where it came from, he brought the jacket into his lap. With caution, he began cutting into the thread that held the cape firmly against the fabric of the jacket.

The door opened. As Skullivan entered the room, Mathieu pretended not to notice, focusing on the task at hand. When the fourth-year leaned against the closed door and rested his face on his hand, however, Mathieu looked up with a twinge of concern. Skullivan looked over at Mathieu through the space between his bony fingers, red eyes clearly distraught.

Even so, the two just looked at each other for a long moment, not saying a word. In the end, Skullivan was the first to speak.

"Say, how do you feel about Bylino Yaga?"

"Um...why do you ask?" Mathieu replied, plucking out a particularly unrelenting bit of thread.

"Oh, just wondering," Skullivan answered, the dark tone of his voice revealing his impatience.

"Er, well, I sit with the guy at lunch sometimes," said Mathieu. "I mean, I don't try to. It just kind of happens."

"If he happens to somehow get into this room," said Skullivan, "could you please tell him that you haven't seen me in our dorm since this morning?"

"Um, sure," Mathieu agreed uncertainly, watching as Skullivan made his way over to the nearby closet. The lanky fourth-year nodded gratefully to his roommate before walking into the closet and shutting himself inside.

Blinking, Mathieu stared at the closet door for a moment. Letting go of his confusion, he continued plucking threads from the cape, hoping, taking his time in detaching it from the striped jacket. He was interrupted by a repeated tapping noise.

Looking over at the open window, Mathieu saw none other than Bylino Yaga sitting on the windowsill, tapping his fingers against the wall as he looked at Mathieu. The third-year's mouth gaped open as he froze. Bylino simply continued to look at him, an expectant glint in his eyes.

"Ah, hi..." Mathieu greeted, raising an eyebrow. "How'd you get up here?"

"Magic, of course," Bylino snapped. "Have you seen Skully around lately, perchance?"

"...Not since this morning..." Mathieu lied, averting his gaze.

Bylino huffed. "If you do find him, you would do well to inform me," he murmured before jumping down from the window and onto the ground below. Panicked, Mathieu made his way over to the window and looked down, only to see that the son of the Baba Yaga was nowhere in sight. As Skullivan exited the closet, taking in a deep breath of fresh air, Mathieu found himself distracted by a sudden hext.

_Finn: Come down to the dungeon level at midnight tonight. The entryway will be unlocked. Only those destined for mayhem, mischief, or moral dubiousness may be allowed to enter the Ever Evil Prep Club. If you truly are dark of heart, the torches will light your way to the club room. All interested potential members must find their way by midnight sharp...except Gaines Goodfellow. Black cloak recommended. Do not bring any guests._

* * *

_Like fire, Hellfire, this fire in my skin..._

At the sound of the wretched song, Mathieu awoke with a start, bashing his hand against the snooze button. Grunting in pain, he recalled that the hand he'd just used to so fiercely swat the poor machine was the one whose fingers were in bandages. The pain had eased greatly since his incident with the harshly-shut door of the Kingdom Mismanagement classroom, but it was still an unwelcome addition in such a situation.

He'd really, _really_ need to figure out a way to change the song on his alarm clock.

Putting on his glasses, Mathieu looked at the time. _11:30_. He also took note of the fact that, despite having fallen asleep after Skullivan, his roommate was nowhere to be found within the confines of their shared room. Slipping on his athletic shoes, Mathieu didn't bother to take many preparations in regard to his appearance before heading out the door. As far as he was concerned, it would have taken too much time.

Making his way down one of the boys' dorms halls, he found himself in a rush for absolutely no reason. Luckily, having gone down that very hall so many times before, he easily avoided the occasional root sticking up from the ground- _why did that particular hall have to be so heavy on the tree theme?_- and maneuvered easily into the rest of the school. Darting through the blackened hallways with only the light of his MirrorPhone, it was all too soon that he found himself greeted by the mouth of the dungeon level.

Last year, the dungeon level had been anything but pleasant. In his Freedom Year, he hadn't chosen a single evil class to attend, and therefore hadn't been in the dungeons before that point. Its gaping maw revealed a steep staircase into black nothingness, leading to a dark and none-too well-kept series of halls with a low ceiling and no sense of hope upon entering. That night, however, Mathieu greeted the dungeons with a facade of confidence. If he was going to be a true villain, he couldn't allow a place like this to frighten him- or, at the very least, he couldn't _admit_ that it did so.

He took slow steps forward as he practically climbed down the stairs, nearly slipping on a particularly wet patch of Grimm-knows-what that the dungeon's cleaning staff hadn't bothered with. At the bottom of the staircase, the stone-brick walls already engulfing him in their monochrome masses, Mathieu began to make a run for it. Only then did his MirrorPhone suddenly shut off, leaving him in total blackness.

Mathieu bit his lip, clinging to the nearest wall. He could have sworn that his MirrorPhone had been recharging all night. Taking hurried breaths that he forced to slow themselves, he assured himself that this was probably just some sort of test. That, along with the other flimsy excuses he told himself, didn't help very much. He could do nothing more than slide against the wall, heart pounding as he took turns he hadn't expected to exist.

It felt like hours before he spotted the first sign of light. The first glimpse he caught, flickering in the corner of his glass lens, sent a stiff shiver up his spine until he realized what it was: a wall-bound torch, flashing its dull light to reveal the green patch of mold surrounding it. Thankful for the sign of something in the boundless nothingness that was the dungeon level, he made his way toward it without hesitation. As he reached the first light, he noticed another- and another, and another. In fact, as Mathieu noticed, the hallway he'd found was flooded with light, albeit very dimly. He rushed down the hall, stopping in an open doorway.

The first thing Mathieu noticed about the room was its contrast. With regards to the blue candle flickering on top of a bookshelf, almost all of the light in the room was provided by a thick green glow inside of a cauldron at its center, leaving the corners subdued sharply in darkness. Apart from that, the room was relatively devoid of furniture, the exception being a circle of chairs surrounding the cauldron. Only one chair, it seemed, was empty.

"Am I...late?" Mathieu asked, surprised to find himself out of breath. As his blue gaze met Finn's green, the light brunet couldn't help but notice just how tired the sea witch appeared, the bags under his eyes highlighted in the harsh illumination of the cauldron. Mathieu didn't dare comment on such a thing outwardly, certain he'd get a subtle denial and a dull, scathing comeback in return.

Finn stood. "Just in time, actually," he answered. After a moment of speculation, he added, "you are in your pajamas, though. Without a cloak, I see."

"Well, you did say that they were recommended, not required," Mathieu pointed out. "I didn't know how to obtain one in such a short period of time. How all of you managed to get those cloaks is beyond me." Looking around at the other students- who were, indeed all clad in nearly identical black cloaks- he saw one of the students shrug, confusing him further.

"Of course. Go take a seat, Frollo," Finn said, rolling his eyes before gesturing to the empty chair. Mathieu did as he was told, regretting his lack of the recommended attire further as he felt a puff of cool air pass by his neck.

Finn took a bottle from his pocket, pouring it into the cauldron. The color changed quickly from its toxic green to an equally deadly-looking, pastel pink. It formed into a fog that rose above the potion pot. Accidentally inhaling some of the mist, Finn coughed, and Mathieu watched as a picture of something began to form within the fog. Because it was so brief, however, Mathieu couldn't really catch what it was before the sea witch wafted the image away.

And Finn smirked. It was one of those rare, genuine, meaningful smirks that almost never met the cecaelia's features. Seeing it used in the current context only managed to make Mathieu more worried, his brows drawn inward.

"Well, who's going first?"

* * *

The potion's purpose was derived directly from The Great Book. Once Johanna Westergaard had made her way up to the cauldron, Mathieu couldn't believe his eyes in regards to the pictures that formed. It seemed to be a rather detailed exhibition- if a low-quality and possibly inaccurate version- of her destiny. It was the same with the other two students. Caspar Scrooge had practically hidden behind his seat every time a ghost appeared on the screen.

What was more, Finn seemed to be compelled to narrate each student's destinies during the times that these illusions were shown. Something about the thought of Finn as a narrator, not even using his comfortable monotone, made Mathieu wince a bit.

The potion did not appear to work, however, in the case of Death's child, the third member to be initiated. Muttering something about the foggy potion already being out of juice, Finn took a purposeful whiff of the potion. Sure enough, Finn's own destiny began to form in the sickly mist. A silhouette of the sea witch in his destined domain, an isolated cave, with the shapes of two eels as companions, revealed itself. The image was quickly wiped away, however, before Finn could be made to narrate his own future.

Finn turned his head toward the spawn of Death. "No, it's working. Must just be you, then. Are you dead, perchance?" The creature shrugged, causing Finn's shoulders to drop. "Right. Well, I've dealt with such a case once before. For now, I'll just ask: do you think yourself evil enough to join the ranks of the Ever Evil Prep Club?" The creature nodded. "Alright, you're in, I suppose. Go back to your seat."

As the young Death slid into his chair beside Caspar, the future Scrooge winced. If Death's spawn wasn't alive, didn't that mean he was a _ghost_?

Noticing Finn's glare settled roughly on him, Mathieu became stiff. As a nervous habit, he pulled his shoulders inward, fidgeting with his hands as his vision darted downward.

Finn made a sound like a quiet scoff, crossing his arms. Then came the dreaded words. "Matt, you're up."

To be fair, the ceremony didn't seem as bad as Mathieu had first thought. When he'd rushed so hurriedly into the club room, he'd been expecting something far more deadly involving the green-turned-pink brew at its center. Still, there was no way he was going to have his destiny recounted to him with the aid of the magical equivalent of a MirrorPoint slideshow. Nervously, his focus shifted from his hands to the cecaelia in front of him.

"Actually, Finn, I think I might just—"

"Come on," Finn interrupted. He made a steady pace toward the judge-to-be, black boots clicking heavily against the stone floor. "It shouldn't be that hard for you. You act like you haven't already seen your destiny."

"Well, of course I have," Mathieu defended.

"Then what's there to be afraid of?" Finn inquired. "Look at Johanna and Caspar. If they went through with it, then you can, too."

Mathieu did, indeed, take a look at the other members of the ceremony. After seeing her destiny and agreeing that she was evil enough to join the club, Johanna had clammed up, her face buried in the hood of her cloak. Caspar's face- which was already a rather unhealthy, sallow color- had drained paper-white. The spawn of Death looked perfectly content, as it hadn't gotten the opportunity to view its destiny. The reactions were all rather unhelpful, causing Mathieu to drop his shoulders and bite into his cheek more thoroughly than he'd intended.

"Are you implying that you don't want to join the club?" Finn asked, eyebrow raised. He looked up at the ceiling, appearing entirely casual and even perfectly at-home within the confines of the club room. "Because if you just want to keep going on as a flower-loving fairy-two-shoes until your destiny hits..." the sea witch trailed off with a shrug. Mathieu glanced at the hand that was offered to him, staring at it for a long moment.

He sighed, taking the fellow future antagonist's hand. Despite feeling as though his joints were glued into their places, he forced himself up from his chair. "Fine."

The corner of Finn's mouth twitched, returning his face to the crooked grin it had held before. "Fantastic."

With that, he pulled the brunet over to the cauldron. Despite himself, Mathieu felt his resistance slowly giving away as he got nearer to the brewing pot. He stood at its mouth for a moment, completely still, before releasing his breath and allowing the mist of the potion to fill his lungs. To his surprise, he was met with a sudden, hacking cough before backing away.

"A bit eager, aren't we?" said Finn. "I probably should have warned you about inhaling the brew too quickly...oh, well, shouldn't have too many adverse effects."

The first image was quick to form. It depicted an aged Mathieu, clad in a black robe and riding fiercely on horseback. He was pursuing a pair of shadows, which were son revealed to be that of a mother and her teenage child.

"Judge Mathieu Frollo, Minister of Justice and possibly the most powerful man in Paris, certainly had his hands busy on one fateful day," Finn began, with a flourish. "You see, he was on the hunt to punish a group of gyspies who had illegally entered his beloved city. Eventually, however, he had his sights focused in on one particular gypsy, thinking she was harboring stolen goods." Mathieu struggled to simply keep his eyes open; this was only the beginning of his tale, and already one of his least favorite scenes was occurring. "When he captured her, however- or, rather, when he _slaughtered_ her- he found that she had not been carrying any stolen goods at all. Rather, she had been running away with her child, Marie Dimanche." Marie received an image of her own. In this version of the tale, she was already a teenager, due to having needed to graduated from Ever After High before she could partake in her story. She was shown crouched over her mother's dead body, the older Mathieu looking down with a look of absolute disgust in his eyes.

Mathieu was shown attempting to force Marie into a well, having grabbed her harshly by the back of her shirt. In the next frame, his head was turned toward the Archdeacon, who was reprimanding the corrupt judge. Finn continued to narrate, watching in amusement as Mathieu flinched at the name of every sin- _killed_ an innocent woman, nearly _drowned_ her child. The images revealed Mathieu begrudgingly taking Marie in and isolating her in the bell tower. Instead of citing the rest of the story to take place twenty years later, Finn stated that a mere two years had passed before Mathieu was shown summoning his Captain Phoebus. The older Mathieu was narrated as expressing his wishes to eliminate gypsies from Paris and then go to Heaven when he dies.

Even Mathieu, sitting back in his chair between Caspar's and Finn's seats, would have rolled his eyes at the statement's hypocrisy if he hadn't been so frazzled at the sight of his future.

The Festival of Fools started up. Even in The Great Book, Mathieu hadn't actually seen a glimpse of his future gypsy girl. Wherever she was set to appear, there had been only an image of her silhouette, featureless and unyielding. As his older self spotted the gypsy girl in the mist, however, she was seen plain as day. She was fair, with strawberry-blonde hair that fell in short curls. Though she appeared quite a bit like her father, her blue-green eyes held a distinct resemblance to her mother's. When Finn even spoke the girl's name- _Paige Phoebus_- Mathieu felt the need to stop Finn and ask just how he knew her name when she wasn't even attending the school.

However, any attempts to make his voice heard withered away as his future self discovered that Marie had left the bell tower and been crowned the Queen of Fools. The older Mathieu simply sat in his chair, refusing to help the poor girl as she was publicly humiliated. Seeing the beautiful gypsy girl defy him by protecting Marie, a look of hatred came to the judge's face as he had her arrested. Finding Paige later in the Cathedral, he captured her arms behind her back as he threatened her. Turning his head slightly, he shamelessly took in the essence of her hair. The word _lust_ finally made its debut in the narration.

Mathieu nearly gagged.

In the next scene, he stood before the dreaded fireplace that he'd seen so many times before. Such was the time for his _Magnum Opus_. Thankfully, Mathieu didn't have to hear any of his older self's singing capabilities, but the way that Finn began humming the song's tune made the air around him feel even colder and more eerie. The fact that the sea witch was suddenly behind Mathieu, his arms at rest on the back of his chair, certainly wasn't helping matters. When Mathieu turned to stare at him, Finn casually reached his hand out and turned the Parisian's head back in the direction of the cauldron.

The next scenes happened in a blur. The judge attempted to burn down the house of an innocent family, only for the future Phoebus to intervene, be declared a traitor, and nearly be executed. He invaded the Court of Miracles, arrested the gypsies, and threatened Paige once again. He prepared the gypsy girl for death by fire. He attempted to kill Marie, just as he had planned on doing when he found her at the beginning of the tale.

He was defied.

He fell into a fire.

The images retreated.

Walking in front of Mathieu, Finn placed a hand on the fellow third-year's shoulder. "Mathieu Frollo, are you evil enough to join the Ever Evil Prep Club?"

"Y-you're worse than my aunt..." Mathieu muttered, hardly able to hide his fear at having watched his destiny play out once again- and in front of others, no less.

"Just answer the question, Matt."

"Um, yeah, sure?"

Finn nodded. "Very good." With that, he walked over toward the front of the room, all eyes on him. "Initiation is complete. I look forward to seeing you all during the next club meeting."

Caspar, Johanna, and the young Death all made their way out of the room, more than eager to get back to their beds and salvage whatever sleeping time they had left. Mathieu was the last to shuffle out of the room. "Mathieu."

The brunet stopped in the doorway, looking behind him. "Finn."

"I'm not going to let you back out of this," Finn warned, using his fingers to douse the blue candle on the bookshelf. "If I'm patient with you, it's only because I'm trying my best to convince you to stay on the wrong path. For destiny's sake."

"Right," said Mathieu. "Well, don't worry about that. I don't plan on trying to stay good anytime soon, if that's what you're worried about. Besides, I owe you one."

Finn shook his head. "I thought we agreed that we owe each other nothing."

"Really? When was that?" Mathieu asked.

"End of second year," Finn replied. "Do you truly not remember? Geez, all of that legacy-fighting you were doing last year must have really put your memory askew."

Mathieu rolled his eyes. "No, it's probably just because I'm sleep-deprived and you're trying to make me remember things in the middle of the night."

"Just get back to your room already, Frollo," Finn muttered, turning his attention on a bottle of clear liquid. As he poured it into the pot, the pink mist dissipated, leaving the room almost totally darkened.

"Will do," said Mathieu. "See you later."

"Bye," Finn replied as Mathieu left the room. Making his way past the torch-lit hallway, Mathieu found himself stifled by darkness once again.

* * *

**Author's Notes: And so the first day of school officially comes to a close. Not only that, but this story is finally caught up with Finn's in terms of chapter number/general timing. Thank godmother. In the previews of the EAH school yearbook, the male dorms are implied to have a heavy tree theme befitting of any Prince Charming or future Huntsman(or something along those lines), thus the roots on the ground.**

**As a general rule, the razor clam shell is a red herring. Or is it?**

**********D********isney Version Notes: Frozen, apparently. The song "Hellfire" is also from Disney's version of The Hunchback of Notre Dame which, as you already know, is being used within this story.**

**********Disclaimers: ********************Ever After High belongs to Mattel. So do the canon characters.**

**********_Mathieu Frollo, Finn Witch, Gaines Goodfellow, Skullivan Koschei, Bylino Yaga, Johanna Westergaard, Caspar Scrooge, Young Death, Mr. Hook,_ and _Marie Dimanche_ belong to me.**

**********_Paige Phoebus_, daughter of Esmeralda and Phoebus from The Hunchback of Notre Dame, belongs to my BFFA Designer101.**

**********_Laima Serpentis_ belongs to the wicked awesome MaiForgottenMemory.**

******************************************Thank you for reading! R&R if that is what your True Heart desires.**


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